In a forgotten village on the edge of nowhere, a boy named Jio grows up ignored by the world. Quiet, unimportant, barely surviving — he’s the kind of kid no one would remember if he disappeared.
But kindness has a strange way of shaping things.

When Jio helps a stranger left to die at the edge of the desert, he doesn’t expect anything to change. He just does it because it feels right.
That stranger isn’t quite who she seems, and Jio isn’t just some quiet beggar boy.
Not really.

But for now, this is just a story about surviving, about learning to care in a place where no one teaches you how, and about how small acts of kindness can begin to shift the world — even before the world notices.

They slept under the ruined mill for three nights in a row.


The roof had caved years ago, but the stone walls still held heat from the day. Enough to keep the wind off.


Havella pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders.


Jio had no cloak. Just the same worn tunic he always wore, full of patched holes and quiet patience.


The moon was silver and cracked, low in the sky. The kind of moon that made broken things look beautiful.


She shifted, turned enough that he could see the outline of her face. Hard lines. Scar across her chin. Eyes like she hadn't slept in a year.


Jio blinked. Then looked back down at the piece of dried root he'd been gnawing.


Later, she spoke again. This time, slower.


Jio didn't answer right away. He traced a finger along the dirt beside his leg, drawing lazy circles.


"Old folks talk about them," he said. "Say they're where the lucky ones go."


She didn't respond immediately. Her expression shifted — not doubt, not belief. Something else. Like a weight being adjusted in her chest.


"I've seen pieces," she murmured. "Not the way you'd think. Not gates in the sky or glowing doors. Just... strange people. People who don't seem like they belong in this world. People who forget to breathe sometimes."


"You act like you're waiting for something," she said. "But you don't know what. You help people who wouldn't piss on you if you were burning. You don't flinch when someone says something cruel. You're too calm. Like you've already lived through the worst."


They didn't speak for the rest of the night.


But they sat close enough that the wind couldn't slip between them.


When Havella dozed off, her head tilted lightly against his shoulder.


He just looked up at the stars — cracked, uneven, impossibly far —


and wondered if they were windows to somewhere else.


Chapter 3 - -3